Chapter XX: Act IV: Scene I

_The Siennese. A Camp before the Walls of Sienna._

_Enter_ GONZAGA _and_ PIERIO.

_Gonz._ You have seized upon the citadel, and disarm'd
All that could make resistance?

_Pier._ Hunger had
Done that, before we came; nor was the soldier
Compell'd to seek for prey: the famish'd wretches,
In hope of mercy, as a sacrifice offer'd
All that was worth the taking.

_Gonz._ Where is the duke of Urbin?

_Pier._ Under guard,
As you directed.

_Gonz._ See the soldiers set
In rank and file, and, as the duchess passes,
Bid them vail their ensigns.

_Loud music. Enter_ RODERIGO, JACOMO, _and_ AURELIA _under a Canopy_. ASTUTIO _presents her with letters_.

_Aurel._ But for these aids from Sicily sent against us,
To blast our spring of conquest in the bud;
I cannot find, my lord ambassador,
How we should entertain 't but as a wrong,
With purpose to detain us from our own,
Howe'er the king endeavours, in his letters,
To mitigate the affront.

_Ast._ Your grace hereafter
May hear from me such strong assurances
Of his unlimited desires to serve you,
As will, I hope, drown in forgetfulness
The memory of what's past.

_Aurel._ We shall take time
To search the depth of 't further, and proceed
As our council shall direct us.

_Gonz._ We present you
With the keys of the city; all lets are removed,
Your way is smooth and easy; at your feet
Your proudest enemy falls.

_Aurel._ We thank your valours:
A victory without blood is twice achieved,
And the disposure of it, to us tender'd,
The greatest honour. Worthy captains, thanks!
My love extends itself to all.

_Gonz._ Make way there.
[_A Guard drawn up_; AURELIA _passes through them_. _Loud music._
[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Sienna. A Room in the Prison._

BERTOLDO _is discovered in fetters, reading_.

_Bert._ 'Tis here determined, (great examples, arm'd
With arguments, produced to make it good,)
That neither tyrants, nor the wrested laws,
The people's frantic rage, sad exile, want,
Nor that which I endure, captivity,
Can do a wise man any injury.
Thus Seneca, when he wrote it, thought.--But then
Felicity courted him; his wealth exceeding
A private man's; happy in the embraces
Of his chaste wife Paulina; his house full
Of children, clients, servants, flattering friends,
Soothing his lip-positions; and created
Prince of the senate, by the general voice,
At his new pupil's suffrage: then, no doubt,
He held, and did believe, this. But no sooner
The prince's frowns and jealousies had thrown him
Out of security's lap, and a centurion
Had offer'd him what choice of death he pleased,
But told him, die he must; when straight the armour
Of his so boasted fortitude fell off,
[_Throws away the book._
Complaining of his frailty. Can it then
Be censured womanish weakness in me, if,
Thus clogg'd with irons, and the period
To close up all calamities denied me,
Which was presented Seneca, I wish
I ne'er had being; at least, never knew
What happiness was; or argue with heaven's justice,
Tearing my locks, and, in defiance, throwing
Dust in the air? or, falling on the ground, thus
With my nails and teeth to dig a grave, or rend
The bowels of the earth, my step-mother,
And not a natural parent? or thus practise
To die, and, as I were insensible,
Believe I had no motion? [_Falls on his face._

_Enter_ GONZAGA, ADORNI, _and Gaoler_.

_Gonz._ There he is:
I'll not inquire by whom his ransom's paid,
I am satisfied that I have it; nor allege
One reason to excuse his cruel usage,
As you may interpret it: let it suffice
It was my will to have it so. He is yours now,
Dispose of him as you please. [_Exit._

_Ador._ Howe'er I hate him,
As one preferr'd before me, being a man,
He does deserve my pity. Sir!--he sleeps:--
Or he is dead?--[_kneels by him._]--No, he breathes! Come near,
And, if 't be possible, without his feeling,
Take off his irons.--[_His irons taken off._]--So;
now leave us private. [_Exit Gaoler._
He does begin to stir; and, as transported
With a joyful dream, how he stares! and feels his legs,
As yet uncertain whether it can be
True or fantastical.

_Bert._ [_rising._] Ministers of mercy,
Mock not calamity. Ha! 'tis no vision!
Or, if it be, the happiest that ever
Appear'd to sinful flesh! Who's here? his face
Speaks him Adorni;--but some glorious angel,
Concealing its divinity in his shape,
Hath done this miracle, it being not an act
For wolfish man. Resolve me, if thou look'st for
Bent knees in adoration?

_Ador._ O forbear, sir!
I am Adorni, and the instrument
Of your deliverance; but the benefit
You owe another.

_Bert._ If he has a name,
As soon as spoken, 'tis writ on my heart
I am his bondman.

_Ador._ To the shame of men,
This great act is a woman's.

_Bert._ The whole sex
For her sake must be deified. How I wander
In my imagination, yet cannot
Guess who this phoenix should be!

_Ador._ 'Tis Camiola.

_Bert._ Pray you, speak 't again; there's music in her name.
Once more, I pray you, sir.

_Ador._ Camiola,
The MAID OF HONOUR.

_Bert._ Cursed atheist that I was,
Only to doubt it could be any other;
Since she alone, in the abstract of herself,
That small, but ravishing substance, comprehends
Whatever is, or can be wish'd, in the
Idea of a woman! O what service,
Or sacrifice of duty, can I pay her,
If not to live and die her charity's slave,
Which is resolved already!

_Ador._ She expects not
Such a dominion o'er you. You must now,
Which is the sum of all that she desires,
By a solemn contract bind yourself, when she
Requires it, as a debt due for your freedom,
To marry her.

_Bert._ This does engage me further;
A payment! an increase of obligation.
To marry her!--'twas my _nil ultra_ ever:
The end of my ambition. O that now
The holy man, she present, were prepared
To join our hands, but with that speed my heart
Wishes mine eyes might see her!

_Ador._ You must swear this.

_Bert._ False to Camiola! never.--Shall I now
Begin my vows to you?

_Ador._ I am no churchman;
Such a one must file it on record: you are free;
And, that you may appear like to yourself,
(For so she wish'd,) here's gold, with which you may
Redeem your trunks and servants, and whatever
Of late you lost. I have found out the captain
Whose spoil they were; his name is Roderigo.

_Bert._ I know him.

_Ador._ I have done my parts.

_Bert._ So much, sir,
As I am ever yours for 't. Now, methinks,
I walk in air! Divine Camiola----
But words cannot express thee: I'll build to thee
An altar in my soul, on which I'll offer
A still-increasing sacrifice of duty. [_Exit._

_Ador._ What will become of me now is apparent.
This Roman resolution of self-murder
Will not hold water at the high tribunal,
When it comes to be argued; my good Genius
Prompts me to this consideration. He
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard valour.
This life's a fort committed to my trust,
Which I must not yield up till it be forced:
Nor will I. He's not valiant that dares die,
But he that boldly bears calamity. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_The same. A State-room in the Palace._

_A Flourish. Enter_ PIERIO, RODERIGO, JACOMO, GONZAGA, AURELIA, FERDINAND, ASTUTIO, _and Attendants_.

_Aurel._ A seat here for the duke. It is our glory
To overcome with courtesies, not rigour;
The lordly Roman, who held it the height
Of human happiness to have kings and queens
To wait by his triumphant chariot-wheels,
In his insulting pride, deprived himself
Of drawing near the nature of the gods,
Best known for such, in being merciful.
Yet, give me leave, but still with gentle language,
And with the freedom of a friend, to tell you,
To seek by force, what courtship could not win,
Was harsh, and never taught in Love's mild school.
Wise poets feign that Venus' coach is drawn
By doves and sparrows, not by bears and tigers.
I spare the application.

_Fer._ In my fortune,
Heaven's justice hath confirm'd it; yet, great lady,
Since my offence grew from excess of love,
And not to be resisted, having paid, too,
With loss of liberty, the forfeiture
Of my presumption, in your clemency
It may find pardon.

_Aurel._ You shall have just cause
To say it hath. The charge of the long siege
Defray'd, and the loss my subjects have sustain'd
Made good, since so far I must deal with caution,
You have your liberty.

_Fer._ I could not hope for
Gentler conditions.

_Aurel._ My lord Gonzaga,
Since my coming to Sienna, I've heard much of
Your prisoner, brave Bertoldo.

_Gonz._ Such an one,
Madam, I had.

_Ast._ And have still, sir, I hope.

_Gonz._ Your hopes deceive you. He is ransom'd, madam.

_Ast._ By whom, I pray you, sir?

_Gonz._ You had best inquire
Of your intelligencer: I am no informer.

_Ast._ I like not this. [_Aside._

_Aurel._ He is, as 'tis reported,
A goodly gentleman, and of noble parts;
A brother of your order.

_Gonz._ He was, madam,
Till he, against his oath, wrong'd you, a princess,
Which his religion bound him from.

_Aurel._ Great minds,
For trial of their valours, oft maintain
Quarrels that are unjust, yet without malice;
And such a fair construction I make of him:
I would see that brave enemy.

_Gonz._ My duty
Commands me to seek for him.

_Aurel._ Pray you do;
And bring him to our presence. [_Exit_ GONZAGA.

_Ast._ I must blast
His entertainment. [_Aside._] May it please your excellency.
He is a man debauch'd, and, for his riots,
Cast off by the king my master; and that, I hope, is
A crime sufficient.

_Fer._ To you, his subjects,
That like as your king likes.

_Aurel._ But not to us;
We must weigh with our own scale.

_Re-enter_ GONZAGA, _with_ BERTOLDO _richly habited, and_ ADORNI.

This is he, sure.
How soon mine eye had found him! what a port
He bears! how well his bravery becomes him!
A prisoner! nay, a princely suitor, rather!
But I'm too sudden. [_Aside._

_Gonz._ Madam, 'twas his suit,
Unsent for, to present his service to you,
Ere his departure.

_Aurel._ With what majesty
He bears himself! [_Aside._

_Ast._ The devil, I think, supplies him.
Ransom'd, and thus rich too!

_Aurel._ You ill deserve
[BERTOLDO, _kneeling, kisses her hand_.
The favour of our hand----we are not well,
Give us more air. [_Descends suddenly._

_Gonz._ What sudden qualm is this?

_Aurel._--That lifted yours against me.

_Bert._ Thus, once more,
I sue for pardon.

_Aurel._ Sure his lips are poison'd,
And through these veins force passage to my heart,
Which is already seized on. [_Aside._

_Bert._ I wait, madam,
To know what your commands are; my designs
Exact me in another place.

_Aurel._ Before
You have our licence to depart! If manners,
Civility of manners, cannot teach you
To attend our leisure, I must tell you, sir,
That you are still our prisoner; nor had you
Commission to free him.

_Gonz._ How's this, madam?

_Aurel._ You were my substitute, and wanted power,
Without my warrant, to dispose of him:
I will pay back his ransom ten times over,
Rather than quit my interest.

_Bert._ This is
Against the law of arms.

_Aurel._ But not of love. [_Aside._
Why, hath your entertainment, sir, been such,
In your restraint, that, with the wings of fear,
You would fly from it?

_Bert._ I know no man, madam,
Enamour'd of his fetters, or delighting
In cold or hunger, or that would in reason
Prefer straw in a dungeon before
A down-bed in a palace.

_Aurel._ How!--Come nearer:
Was his usage such?

_Gonz._ Yes, and it had been worse,
Had I foreseen this.

_Aurel._ O such as thou, that have
No share in nature's bounties, know no pity
To such as have them. Look on him with my eyes,
And answer, then, whether this were a man
Whose cheeks of lovely fulness should be made
A prey to meagre famine? or these eyes,
Whose every glance store Cupid's emptied quiver,
To be dimm'd with tedious watching? or these lips,
These ruddy lips, of whose fresh colour cherries
And roses were but copies, should grow pale
For want of nectar? or these limbs, that bear
A burthen of more worth than is supported
By Atlas' wearied shoulders, should be cramp'd
With the weight of iron? O, I could dwell ever
On this description!

_Bert._ Is this in derision,
Or pity of me?

_Aurel._ In your charity
Believe me innocent. Now you are my prisoner,
You shall have fairer quarter: you will shame
The place where you have been, should you now leave it,
Before you are recover'd. I'll conduct you
To more convenient lodgings, and it shall be
My care to cherish you. Repine who dare;
It is our will. You'll follow me?

_Bert._ To the centre,
Such a Sybilla guiding me.
[_Exeunt_ AURELIA, BERTOLDO, _and Attendants_.

_Gonz._ Who speaks first?

_Fer._ We stand as we had seen Medusa's head.

_Pier._ I know not what to think, I am so amazed.

_Rod._ Amazed! I am thunderstruck.

_Jac._ We are enchanted,
And this is some illusion.

_Ador._ Heaven forbid!
In dark despair it shows a beam of hope:
Contain thy joy, Adorni. [_Aside._

_Ast._ Such a princess,
And of so long experienced reservedness,
Break forth, and on the sudden, into flashes
Of more than doubted love!

_Gonz._ They come again,
Smiling, as I live!--Some fury hath possess'd her.
If I speak, I may be blasted.

_Re-enter_ BERTOLDO _and_ AURELIA.

_Aurel._ Let not, sir,
The violence of my passion nourish in you
An ill opinion; or, grant my carriage
Out of the road and garb of private women,
'Tis still done with decorum.

_Bert._ Gracious madam,
Vouchsafe a little pause; for I am so rapt
Beyond myself, that, till I have collected
My scatter'd faculties, I cannot tender
My resolution.

_Aurel._ Consider of it:
I will not be long from you.
[BERTOLDO _walks by musing_.

_Gonz._ Pray you, fair lady,
If you can, in courtesy direct me to
The chaste Aurelia.

_Aurel._ Are you blind? who are we?

_Gonz._ Another kind of thing. Her love was govern'd
By her discretion, and not ruled her reason:
The reverence and majesty of Juno
Shined in her looks, and, coming to the camp,
Appear'd a second Pallas. I can see
No such divinities in you: if I,
Without offence, may speak my thoughts, you are,
As 'twere, another Helen.

_Aurel._ Good! ere long
You shall know me better.

_Gonz._ Why, if you are Aurelia,
How shall I dispose of the soldier?

_Ast._ May it please you
To hasten my despatch?

_Aurel._ Prefer your suits
Unto Bertoldo; we will give him hearing,
And you'll find him your best advocate. [_Exit._

_Ast._ This is rare!

_Gonz._ What are we come to?

_Rod._ Grown up in a moment
A favourite!

_Ferd._ He does take state already.

_Bert._ No, no; it cannot be:--yet, but Camiola,
There is no step between me and a crown.
Then my ingratitude! a sin in which
All sins are comprehended! Aid me, Virtue,
Or I am lost!

_Gonz._ May it please your excellence----
Second me, sir.

_Bert._ Then my so horrid oaths,
And hell-deep imprecations made against it!

_Ast._ The king, your brother, will thank you for the advancement
Of his affairs.

_Bert._ And yet who can hold out
Against such batteries as her power and greatness
Raise up against my weak defences?

_Gonz._ Sir,

_Re-enter_ AURELIA.

Do you dream waking? 'Slight, she's here again!
Walks she on woollen feet[163]!

_Aurel._ You dwell too long
In your deliberation, and come
With a cripple's pace to that which you should fly to.

_Bert._ It is confess'd: yet why should I, to win
From you, that hazard all to my poor nothing,
By false play send you off a loser from me?
I am already too, too much engaged
To the king my brother's anger; and who knows
But that his doubts and politic fears, should you
Make me his equal, may draw war upon
Your territories? Were that breach made up,
I should with joy embrace what now I fear
To touch but with due reverence.

_Aurel._ That hinderance
Is easily removed. I owe the king
For a royal visit, which I straight will pay him;
And having first reconciled you to his favour,
A dispensation shall meet with us.

_Bert._ I am wholly yours.

_Aurel._ On this book seal it.

_Gonz._ What, hand and lip too! then the bargain's sure.----
You have no employment for me?

_Aurel._ Yes, Gonzaga;
Provide a royal ship.

_Gonz._ A ship! St. John,
Whither are we bound now?

_Aurel._ You shall know hereafter.
My lord, your pardon for my too much trenching
Upon your patience.

_Ador._ Camiola! [_Aside to_ BERTOLDO.

_Aurel._ How do you?

_Bert._ Indisposed; but I attend you.
[_Exeunt all but_ ADORNI.

_Ador._ The heavy curse that waits on perjury
And foul ingratitude pursue thee ever!
Yet why from me this? in his breach of faith
My loyalty finds reward: what poisons him,
Proves mithridate[164] to me. I have perform'd
All she commanded, punctually; and now,
In the clear mirror of my truth, she may
Behold his falsehood. O that I had wings
To hear me to Palermo! This, once known,
Must change her love into a just disdain,
And work her to compassion of my pain. [_Exit._

FOOTNOTES:

[163] _Walks she on woollen feet._] The expression is classical
(_lanei pedes_), but does not bear the classical sense. How
Massinger understood it I cannot tell; perhaps, as equivalent to
motion without noise.--GIFFORD.

[164] _Mithridate._] An antidote. "_Mithridate_ is one of the capital
medicines of the shops, consisting of a great number of
ingredients, and has its name from its inventor, Mithridates, King
of Pontus."--QUINEY.

SCENE IV.

_Palermo. A Room in_ CAMIOLA'_s House_.

_Enter_ SYLLI, CAMIOLA, _and_ CLARINDA, _at several doors._

_Syl._ Undone! undone!--poor I, that whilome was
The top and ridge of my house, am, on the sudden,
Turn'd to the pitifullest animal
O' the lineage of the Syllis!

_Cam._ What's the matter?

_Syl._ The king--break, girdle, break!

_Cam._ Why, what of him?

_Syl._ Hearing how far you doted on my person,
Is come himself a suitor, with the awl
Of his authority to bore my nose,
And take you from me--Oh, oh, oh!

_Cam._ Do not roar so:
The king!

_Syl._ The king. Yet loving Sylli is not
So sorry for his own as your misfortune:
If the king should carry you, he can but make you
A queen, and what a simple thing is that
To the being my lawful spouse! the world can never
Afford you such a husband.

_Cam._ I believe you.
But how are you sure the king is so inclined?
Did not you dream this?

_Syl._ With these eyes I saw him
Dismiss his train, and lighting from his coach,
Whispering Fulgentio in the ear.

_Cam._ If so,
I guess the business.

_Syl._ Yonder they are; I dare not

_Enter_ ROBERTO _and_ FULGENTIO.

Be seen, I am so desperate: if you forsake me,
Send me word, that I may provide a willow garland,
To wear when I drown myself. O Sylli, Sylli!
[_Exit crying._

_Ful._ It will be worth your pains, sir, to observe
The constancy and bravery of her spirit.
Though great men tremble at your frowns, I dare
Hazard my head your majesty, set off
With terror, cannot fright her.

_Rob._ May she answer
My expectation! [_Aside._

_Ful._ There she is.

_Cam._ My knees thus
Bent to the earth, while my vows are sent upward
For the safety of my sovereign, pay the duty
Due for so great an honour, in this favour
Done to your humblest handmaid.

_Rob._ You mistake me;
I come not, lady, that you may report
The king, to do you honour, made your house
(He being there) his court; but to correct
Your stubborn disobedience. A pardon
For that, could you obtain it, were well purchased
With this humility.

_Cam._ A pardon, sir!
Till I am conscious of an offence,
I will not wrong my innocence to beg one.
What is my crime, sir?

_Rob._ Look on him I favour,
By you scorn'd and neglected.

_Cam._ Is that all, sir?

_Rob._ No, minion; though that were too much.
How can you
Answer the setting on your desperate bravo
To murder him?

_Cam._ With your leave, I must not kneel, sir,
While I reply to this: but thus rise up
In my defence, and tell you, as a man,
(Since, when you are unjust, the deity,
Which you may challenge as a king, parts from you,)
'Twas never read in holy writ, or moral,
That subjects on their loyalty were obliged
To love their sovereign's vices: your grace, sir,
To such an undeserver is no virtue.

_Ful._ What think you now, sir?

_Cam._ Say you should love wine,
You being the king, and, 'cause I am your subject,
Must I be ever drunk? Tyrants, not kings,
By violence, from humble vassals force
The liberty of their souls. I could not love him;
And to compel affection, as I take it,
Is not found in your prerogative.

_Rob._ Excellent virgin!
How I admire her confidence! [_Aside._

_Cam._ He complains
Of wrong done him: but be no more a king,
Unless you do me right. Burn your decrees,
And of your laws and statutes make a fire
To thaw the frozen numbness of delinquents,
If he escape unpunish'd. Do your edicts
Call it death in any man that breaks into
Another's house to rob him, though of trifles;
And shall Fulgentio, your Fulgentio, live,
Who hath committed more than sacrilege,
In the pollution of my clear fame
By his malicious slanders?

_Rob._ Have you done this?
Answer truly, on your life.

_Ful._ In the heat of blood,
Some such thing I reported.

_Rob._ Out of my sight!
For I vow, if by true penitence thou win not
This injured lady to sue out thy pardon,
Thy grave is digg'd already.

_Ful._ By my own folly
I have made a fair hand of 't. [_Aside, and Exit._

_Rob._ You shall know, lady,
While I wear a crown, Justice shall use her sword
To cut offenders off, though nearest to us.

_Cam._ Ay, now you show whose deputy you are:
If now I bathe your feet with tears, it cannot
Be censured superstition.

_Rob._ You must rise;
Rise in our favour and protection ever.
[_Kisses her._

_Cam._ Happy are subjects, when the prince is still
Guided by justice, not his passionate will.
[_Exeunt._